God I hate them. Everyone. They all suck. I liked it there, in London, I had friends there. There were people that I didn't suck there and a school I didn't hate.
But those bastards moved and dragged me with them.
Now I'm stuck in New York.
It's the first day of school, (yeah, we moved during the summer, fucking bastards…) first day of sophomore year and it's at some shitty public school call Manhattan High.
Joy.
"Clary!" Sebastian, my brother who encouraged my mother to move, yells while banging on the door. "Get up! We leave in 15!"
"I'll get up in a minute!"
"CLARY! GET YOUR-" My mother, the bitch who decided to move here taking me with her, practically screams.
"Shut the hell up!" I throw a pillow at the door.
"CLARY!"
"I'm up I'm up! Calm yourself!" I groan and flop out of my bed and look in the mirror; I look like shit. I trudge into my bathroom, (the only good thing about moving: my own bathroom) but not after tripping over every fucking think in my room.
Attractive Mode go!
I spend my precious 13 minutes (one lost during the perilous journey to my bathroom) combing, brushing, and flattening my hair, applying eye shadow, eyeliner, lipstick (sexier than lip gloss) and blush (just enough to look innocent, but not vulnerable; the vulnerable look is countered by the lipstick).
"Clary let's go!"
"Jeans, converse, black blouse, go!" I mutter while throwing them on. "Coming!" I rush down the stairs grabbing my jacket and bag. I burst through the front door and just make it to the car as Sebastian is pulling out. "Bastard, you were gonna leave me."
"Be faster next time…bitch." He adds it as an after thought while he backs out of our driveway..
"It doesn't work for you."
"What?"
"Swearing."
"Jesus you're annoying."
"You just noticed?"
"No, you just got worse."
"Well fuck."
"Shit."
"Still doesn't work for you."
"Shut up."
